


Victim of a Magazine

by clxude



Series: yakulev week 2016 [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Confessions, Future Fic, Lingerie, M/M, gratuitous use of commas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 13:10:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7759048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clxude/pseuds/clxude
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Darling you're a mask without a face</em>
  <br/>
  <em>lingerie without the lace</em>
  <br/>
  <em>high fashion without the taste</em>
  <br/>
  <em>girl, get it away from me</em>
</p><p> </p><p>For years, Haiba Lev has known he likes boys. Not that it has anything to do with Yaku-senpai, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ok so here's the first chapter of victim. the next one will up tomorrow, for the day 3 prompt that fits best (going with burn probably so Yaku can drag lev)
> 
> yakulev week//day 2//future fic
> 
> title from armors' aubrey

It starts during the winter break of his third year. His sister had been home visiting from college, and with her, brought a storm of beauty and fashion magazines. Alisa has never been the best with keeping up with her belongings, and the day after she goes back to school, he wakes up to a bedroom full of magazines he would never look twice at.

 

And he doesn’t look at them, at least for a few hours, until his phone battery dies and he realizes that, while Alisa leaves everything, she also tends to steal Lev’s phone chargers religiously. He thinks about going down to the corner store to buy another one for a thousand yen, but with how heavily it is beginning to snow, he decides against it. 

 

He flops down on the bed, feeling too lethargic to begin his homework, but too awake for a nap. He rolls over, and spots one of the magazines left behind. He thinks for a half a second before grabbing it.

 

On the cover, is two girls with flowers in their hair, and even more in the field, they’re sitting in. Both of them are dressed in pastel clothing, flowing in the wind. The name of the magazine, along with some of the article headlines, are written in English. 

 

On the first few pages, he sees the two girls over and over again in that same field, in various poses and outfits, the sun glinting off of their skin. Although the pictures do look beautiful, he’s not quite sure what his sister loves so much about them. He flips through a few more pages until he becomes bored, tosses it aside, and snatches up the next closest one. 

 

This one has a guy on the cover, shirtless with his jeans slung low and hugging his hips. Already, he’s more interested in this magazine. He’s known since his first year of high school, when he met Yaku Morisuke, that guys are just  _ better,  _ or at least when it comes to romantic and sexual attraction. Not that has anything to do with Yaku, of course. 

 

He flips through the glossy pages, looking at every page closely before flipping to the next. All of the men are well muscled, with strong jaws and dark eyes. For the most part, they’re close to exposing every single inch of skin, but the few pictures where they are fully clothed in well-tailored suits are just as mouth watering. 

 

He reaches the end of the magazine too quickly, and jumps off of his bed to search for another, even though the snowstorm has come and gone. Hours pass quickly like this, staring at male models until it’s time for dinner.

 

…

 

By his second year of college, he’s stopped stealing his sister’s magazines. 

 

When he was living in student housing with a roommate, he kept them hidden under his mattress. Now that he’s living in an apartment, alone, walking distance from school, they’re scattered across his room. He’s branched out in subject matter as well, and instead of just American fashion magazines, there’s now sports magazines, ones in Japanese, and others from the back of the corner store that require I.D. Those, for a reason still unknown from him, are kept under his mattress. 

 

He sits at his desk, ignoring the midterm paper in an open document on his computer screen. 

 

He had bought this one a few days ago, after he got out of his last exam as a gift to himself. The paper is glossy and thick, a higher quality than most of the other ones he owns. On the cover, made out of a thicker paper than the rest of the lookbook, are soft blue flowers; hydrangeas, the kind that blossom in his parents’ backyard. 

 

On the first page is a desk, pressed up against a wall with pieces of lace littered across the wooden surface. Over it, the table of contents is typed:  _ lace; satin; panties; corsets; thigh highs; clothing; accessories.  _

 

He flips to the next page, a model in a burgundy sweater. He’s reclining on a loveseat, legs propped on the armrest to show off the matching socks that end just above the knee. His light brown hair is curly and tousled, like he just woke up. 

 

The next page has the same man, lying beside another model with dyed purple hair. They’re holding hands and smiling up at the camera, legs twisted together, proudly showing off their matching collars and panties. On the right side of the spread, it lists the models’ names, a random fact about them, and what they’re wearing. 

 

Having never ever really been into collars, he flips the page, and his hand stills. He’s not quite certain what he’s looking at, other than a light pink sweater that matches the one Lev owns, another present for himself a month ago. 

 

It’s the same light brown hair, although a little more grown out. It’s the same dark eyes, crinkled at the edges from smiling. Sweater paws cover the model’s mouth. The sweater itself is long enough to cover everything, including the tops of his cat paw patterned socks. 

 

_ Yaku Morisuke.  _

_ He played volleyball in high school, and his team once made it to nationals. He still plays today, with a local neighborhood team. _

_ He is wearing  _ kitty tracks thigh highs  _ and  _ blasé sweater  _ in rose gold. _

 

“Senpai...“

 

For once in his life, Haiba Lev doesn’t know what to say.

 

…

 

He spends the rest of the evening slapping together something for dinner and pretending to brainstorm for his essay, decidedly  _ not  _ thinking about the magazine shoved in a desk drawer. 

 

He hasn’t talked to anyone in his year from Nekoma since he graduated, and the third years since his second year when Kenma graduated. It was easier to separate his sexuality from the people on the volleyball team back then, when everything was about becoming the very best and being Nekoma’s ace. He could pretend that looking at his senpai - Yaku in particular - was for the sake of becoming better at the game. 

 

But this, thinking about Yaku in a magazine four years later, isn’t something he can hide nearly as easily.  _ He’s just an old senpai,  _ Lev wants to think.  _ You just didn’t expect to see him. It’s a surprise; that’s why you can’t stop thinking about him. _

 

Lev hopes that’s why he can’t stop thinking about Yaku-san.

  
…


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yaku has no desire to see any of his old kohai. But, he would rather go back to the volleyball club reunion than have any of them know his address.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said there would only be two chapters lmao I lied there's 3. the final one will be up tomorrow. this one is a little shorter, but i'm also trying to get at least 10k for my hqbb fic, even if I don't finish so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> yakulev week//day 3//burn

Morisuke contemplates ignoring Kuroo’s text about a volleyball club reunion. He sees Kuroo and Kenma enough as it is, and other than them, there aren’t very many people on the team he’s interested in seeing. 

 

It’s been five years since he graduated; he just hopes his kohai have finally grown up.

 

…

 

When his phone begins to ring at three-thirty, Morisuke already knows who it is. He turns down the television volume before accepting the call.

 

“What do you want, Kuroo?” he sighs.

 

“Why aren’t you here?” It’s difficult to make out exactly what he’s saying, there’s too much background noise for it to be clear. “All of the kohai miss you. I even got Kenma to come!”

 

“You probably took his PSP charger so he had no choice but to come.”

 

Kuroo fakes a gasp. “How dare you accuse me of that?” He laughs, “but seriously, I’ll give everyone your address if you don’t show up in the next hour. Lev looked like he was going to cry when I said I didn’t know if you were coming. Imagine that, Yaku: Haiba Lev knowing your address.”

 

Morisuke hangs up and immediately turns off the tv, running to his room to throw on some clothes.

 

…

 

Nekoma’s gym is filled with red and black balloons, food, and college students. Sometimes Morisuke misses college, the large amounts of food, and not having to worry about bills, but when he sees how tired they are, he’s reminded how unstressful his job as a lingerie model is for the most part.

 

He stands in the corner for a while, eating pieces of fruit that Taketora had brought with him. Kuroo had told him to come, and he had, but that didn’t mean he was going to socialize. 

 

“Yaku-san!” 

 

Morisuke takes a deep breath, forces a smile, and turns around to greet Lev. The gray-haired man is taller than he was back in first year, towering far above Morisuke. His hair is cropped close on the sides and shaggy on the top, giving off the appearance of a functional college student. 

 

“Hey, Lev.”

 

Lev blushes, and Morisuke tries to not think anything of it. Lev is an idiot, or at least he use to be. Trying to understand him would probably lower Morisuke’s IQ, and while his job didn’t require a large amount of thinking, he wasn’t particularly interested being an idiot. 

 

“How have you been, senpai?” 

 

“Don’t call me that,” Morisuke scowls. “You’re in college now. I’m not your senpai anymore.”

 

Lev pouts and shuffles his feet. “Sorry, sen - Yaku-san.”

 

Morisuke sighs, not bothering to tell Lev to just call him Yaku, or even just Yaku-kun.  _ Senpai  _ makes him think about quiet nights in his dark bedroom, back in third year. Just seeing Lev makes him think about that, but  _ senpai  _ keeps him grounded, reminding him of the age difference and why he never pursued his feelings. Now, looking at Lev, Morisuke can’t see him as anything other than a clueless first year. 

 

“Yaku-san?”

 

“Mmm?” 

 

“Do you want to - ah - comeovertomyplace?” The words come out all at once in a rush. Morisuke blinks, unsure as to what the silver-haired man had said. 

 

“Do you want to come over to my apartment?” Lev repeats himself.

 

Morisuke doesn’t know Lev anymore; five years can change a person. But, if he’s anything like the Lev he use to know, the Lev he use to -  _ enjoy  _ spending time with, then hanging out isn’t the worse way to spend his evening, but it’s up there, somewhere between his first modeling contract and eating four-month-old eggs. 

 

“Ok, sure.”

 

Lev smiles hugely. He grabs Morisuke’s hand and drags him out of the room, his strides too long for the older man to keep up easily. 

 

“Is Yaku getting some?” he hears Kuroo ask, pleasure obvious in his voice. 

 

Morisuke flips him off in the seconds before the door shuts.

 

…

 

They ride the train to Lev’s apartment. It’s fairly empty, just a few scattered seats left open. The first time the rain swerves and Morisuke slides into Lev, he shuffles back to his seat right away. The second time, he doesn’t bother to, just leaves his thigh pressed against Lev’s. The third time, he leaves their hips together.

 

Even through two pairs of jeans, Lev’s legs feel warm. 

 

…

 

They barely make it through the front door before Morisuke is pressed up against the wall, Lev’s hands squeezing his thighs just below his ass to pick him up. Lev’s mouth is on his neck, sucking hard. His lips are warm, warmer than Morisuke’s skin, even though he feels like he’s on fire. 

 

Morisuke just hopes he won’t regret this in the morning.

 

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments are cool, be nice to authors, my tumblr is mother-iwa-chan, and I take requests. have a great day!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Darling You're the scars without the story  
>  the guts without the glory  
> the truth is that you're boring  
> get it away from me_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so a tiny bit of sexy times, but _nothing_ is described. like -3 seconds of neck kissing and that's it
> 
> yakulev week//day 4//domestic/freeze idk

When he wakes up, he’s not surprised the bed is empty and a tad bit cold. The few times he’s invited guys back to his place since moving out of the student housing, they’re always out of Lev’s apartment before morning. It’s easier, all things considered, to not have to talk to people the morning after. Lev hasn’t grown comfortable enough with the whole gay sex thing to even  _ consider  _ talking to men the morning after.

 

He shuffles out of bed and pulls on a pair of boxers. The lights throughout the apartment are already on, even though Lev has no memory of them being on when he came home last night. He doesn’t think very hard about it, though, as he starts a pot of coffee. It’s too early and he hasn’t consumed nearly enough caffeine for his brain to function.

 

“What the fuck?”

 

A freshly made pot was already waiting for him, a clean coffee cup sitting before it. 

 

“You’re finally up?” He turns around to see Yaku sitting at the kitchen table, clutching his own coffee mug. “You really should clean up when you have guests coming over, Lev.”

 

The tall man blushes and stares down at the ground. “I didn’t know you would come over,” he mumbles.  _ “Or stay until morning,”  _ he doesn’t add.

 

“But, you certainly wanted me to, didn’t you? Kuroo said you looked close to tears when I almost didn’t go to the reunion last night,” Yaku says as he places the mug down on the table. “Hey, Lev?”

 

Lev jerks his head up. “What?”

 

“How many of the magazines you own, have me in them?”

 

Lev isn’t sure how to answer. He could tell the truth, like his parents would want him to, but does that advice really apply to this situation? He doesn’t know how his parents would react to his magazine collection.

 

Or, he could lie. This could potentially backfire, though, depending on how much Yaku has seen. And, truth be told, he doesn’t really want to lie, either. He…  _ likes  _ Yaku-san, and he knows you shouldn’t lie to anyone, but most of all the people you care about. 

 

His final choice is to run out the door, rent a new apartment in possibly a different country, and never look back.

 

Even in only his underwear, the choice is obvious. He dashes out the door and onto the grassy lawn in front of the complex, praying none of his neighbors are up and out of their apartments yet.

 

“Lev - what the fuck, you  _ dumbass!”  _

 

He hears Yaku run after him, but with his longer legs, he’s able to evade him easily, even if he does slide on the dewy grass. 

 

“You’re such a dumbass!” he hears the short man shout a second before he’s tackled from the waist. 

 

Yaku had been fast in high school, but Lev doesn’t remember him being  _ this  _ fast.

 

Lev falls on his stomach, and Yaku sits on his back. He weighs more than Lev had expected, but he’s also more muscular than he was back in high school. Yaku’s knees dig into the flesh just below Lev’s ribs.

 

“Answer the damn question, Haiba Lev.”

 

Lev braces himself before answering. “Most of them?”

 

Yaku sighs and rolls off of him. “Back in third year, I had a crush on you.”

 

Lev isn’t sure where this is going, and he’s in too much shock to reply anyway. Yaku-san… having a crush on  _ him?! _

 

“I thought that since you were a first year, dating, or even just confessing to you, would be weird.” Yaku turns towards Lev, but doesn’t look him in the eye. The tall man can feel his gaze resting just above his eyes. “But now, even though it’s the same age difference, it doesn’t feel the same. Maybe it’s because you’re not a kid just starting high school, or I realized that the two years weren’t the end of the world, but - “

 

“I like you, Yaku-san. I have for a while. Since high school,” Lev blurts out. He doesn’t want to hear Yaku rattle on about why they would never work back then, back in high school. This is now, and now is when Yaku is confessing to liking - liked? - Lev. And that, that’s enough. 

 

“Interrupting is rude, Lev,” Yaku chides, but Lev rushes on like Yaku never said a word. 

 

“That’s why I bought the magazines. The first one was an accident, or not really, I guess. I meant to buy it, but I didn’t know you were in it, and after that, it was just nice to see you. I, ah, liked you a lot back then.”

 

Yaku bursts out laughing. Lev wrinkles his brow, deeply confused. 

 

“God, we’re both idiots, aren’t we?”

 

Lev smiles. “Yeah, we both are.” 

 

…

 

They end up at Yaku’s apartment, where the ex-libero is more than happy to model a few outfits.

 

“I keep everything from the photo shoots,” he explains through the partially open bathroom door as he slides on the red cat paw pattern socks, a pair Lev picked out especially for the occasion. “It’s not like any of the companies can sell it once I wear it, and it’s custom fitted for me. They have no use for it, and I have nothing against free clothing made to perfectly fit my body.”

 

He swings the door open, and walks to the foot of the bed where Lev is sitting. He pulls down the hem of his sweater, but it does nothing to hide the inches of bare milky skin between where his top ends and his thigh highs begin. A bit of dusty pink lace peeks out from underneath his sweater.

 

“How do I look?”

 

Lev swallows hard. “You look good. Really good.” He pulls roughly on his collar. “Does it feel a bit warm to you in here?”

 

“You’ll feel cooler without the shirt on,” Yaku suggests, smirking mercilessly as he crawls onto the bed to straddle Lev. “I could help you take it off, if you want.”

 

“Uhh…” 

 

“Aw, you’re blushing,” whispers Yaku, before he presses a kiss to Lev’s cheek. “I’m curious to see how pink the rest of your body can get.”

 

He presses Lev down into the mattress. The sheets are soft beneath Lev’s skin. Yaku follows him down, trailing his lips from Lev’s cheek to his neck, before finally stopping at the hollow of his throat. He presses a kiss there, and Lev inhales sharply. 

 

“Ready to play, kohai?”

  
… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so there's the end of victim of a magazine. if you stuck around this long through short ass chapters and shitty characterization, awesome! I'm actually not sure how much more of this week I'll be able to do. I have ideas for the next 3 days, but I'm starting school on the 17, and I still need to do a lot for hqbb, so we'll just have to see.
> 
> comments are cool, be kind to authors, my tumblr is mother-iwa-chan, and I take requests!

**Author's Note:**

> comments are awesome!! be kind to authors!! my tumblr is mother-iwa-chan!! I take requests!! see you tomorrow hopefully!!


End file.
